Escupitadors De Muerte (Capitulo Cuatro)
by Nova Adams
Summary: Just read the other summary on Random's SN.


death spitters 4

Rachel leans across her desk to slip Jenny a note. The sight of her breasts brushing the table distracts Harry from taking notes on the uses of grated wahooni, and he stares. Rachel gives him a wink. 

Snape sees this. "Miss Greenteeth. What is in that note?" 

Jenny hides it behind her back. "You don't wanna know, trust me." 

"Is it a funny note? Is that why you were laughing?" Snape glares at her over his glasses. "I like funny things. Why don't you share this with the class?" 

Jenny shrugs and hands over the note. "Here." 

Snape reads it, slowly, to himself. Harry can see his lips moving. "…would be so hot if…wash his hair…work out more…" 

He turns to Rachel. "I'm flattered, but just so you know, I already have a girlfriend." 

Rachel shrugs. "Whoever she is, she's one lucky girl." 

"Actually, she's in Azkaban right now," Snape says. "Draco, wake up." 

Draco is sitting at his desk, his face in his hands, making low moaning sounds. Rachel leans over to Harry and whispers, "Hangover." 

Snape shakes his head in disgust. "Incidentally, today's assignment is a hangover cure." 

Harry and Rachel are wrapped in each other's arms, in a convenient cranny behind a statue. With the Quidditch matches coming up, it's really the only time they have together. 

They part from a long, deep kiss. Harry stares into Rachel's eyes. "I'm worried," he confesses. 

Rachel strokes his hair. "About what?" 

"At the rave, the only reason Voldemort didn't kill me is because you were there," Harry said. "He's going to show up again, you know." 

Rachel laughs softly. "You're worried about that? I can fix that." She draws him into an empty classroom and shuts the door. "Take off your shirt and sit on one of the desks." 

Harry does as he is told. "Is this going to hurt?" 

"A little," Rachel says, "but nothing you can't handle. Close your eyes." Harry does. 

Rachel's finger traces his scar, gently, almost teasing. It's suddenly more than Harry can handle, and he gasps for breath. 

Rachel laughs. "That's all it takes?" Her tongue travels alone the lightning-bolt shape, and she gently withdraws. "Now that that's been activated," she says, "we can get down to business." She gently pushes him facedown onto the desk. 

Harry doesn't know quite what to expect, but he isn't expecting this. Rachel digs her fingernails into his left shoulder, and covers his mouth with her other hand, letting him suck on her fingers to keep quiet. 

She takes the fold of skin between her fingers and twists so hard that Harry sees spots. Then she releases, and the world goes back to normal. 

Harry sits up. "God, that hurt!" 

Rachel shrugs. "I told you it would. Look at your shoulder." Harry does. He sees a small patch of white marks. As he squints at them, they take the shape of a heart, and then a mouth. 

"No one can hurt you now," Rachel whispers in his ear. "You're mine." 

Hagrid's been integrating the ever-popular unicorns into the Care of Magical Creatures lessons every chance he gets, and since the Pokémon they've been trying to train for the past few months need a break, today is no exception. Rachel's off trying to explain to Hagrid, in the most delicate way possible, exactly why she can't touch the large, iridescent unicorn that most of the class is gathered around. Harry is hanging out, watching everyone else, acutely aware that he too has been disqualified from coming into contact with unicorns. 

"Hey," says a voice right next to his ear. Harry turns around suddenly. 

"Hey, Ron," he says. "I didn't see you. Why aren't you with Hermione?" Ron and Hermione have been going out for the past month, ever since Harry broke up with her. 

"Um, you know that girl Rachel? You know, your girlfriend?" Ron jerks his head toward Rachel, who is bashing her head theatrically against a tree while Hagrid looks on in bemusement. 

Harry has a feeling that this is not leading toward something good. "Yeah." 

Ron looks away. "Isn't she sort of, well—slutty for you?" 

"As far as I know, she hasn't even touched another guy since she's been with me," Harry informs him. Looking is another matter. Rachel's naturally hormonal. Harry can't blame her, since he's been imagining her with Cho Chang. 

Ron shrugs. "Up to you, I guess. But it's probably not a good idea to get too serious with her, you know? I mean, she _is_ Voldemort's daughter. She could be trying to get close to you just to kill you." 

Harry shakes his head. "I don't think so." 

"Whatever." Ron sticks his hands in his pockets. "Just be careful, OK?" He gives Harry a pat on the shoulder and wanders off. 

Harry stares at Rachel, who is leaning against a tree, acting disgusted. A seed of suspicion starts to form in his mind. Maybe the reason she protected me like that is because she wants to kill me herself… 

Rachel leans against the pillar, her hair shining in the moonlight. "You said you wanted to talk?" 

Harry can't look at her directly. "Look, I was talking to Ron…" 

Rachel nods. "Go on." 

"Imscaredyouregoingtokillme—andithinkweshouldbreakup." The words come out in a rush of air. Harry closes his eyes. "I'm sorry." 

"Right." Rachel's voice has a tone in it that Harry hasn't heard before. He opens his eyes. Rachel is staring at him, her hands on her hips. "Right." She raises her hands to Harry, balled up in fists, and for a moment he thinks she's going to hit him. Then he sees the dark liquid dripping from her hands. 

Harry gasps. "Rachel, you're hurting yourself!" Apparently, Rachel has dug her fingernails into her palms so hard that she's broken the skin. 

"It doesn't hurt that badly," Rachel says, "actually, it sort of distracts from the real pain." She lowers her hands. "Fine." She walks off into the darkness, blood dripping from her hands. 

The next day, Rachel isn't in class. But Jenny Greenteeth is, and she lights into Harry during Herbology. 

"Do you know what you did to Rachel?" she fumes. "You dumped her like she was a piece of trash! You stupid sumbitch. You know what she's doing right now? She be sitting at home, crying her eyes out because you stupid son of a bitch is scared you going to die! You better hope she ain't mad enough to give you away to Voldemort, cause that's what you deserve!" She turns away haughtily, then adds, "And if she come back, you better go crawling on yo hands and knees back to her and ask her if she forgive you, cause even if her Daddy don't, her mama's gonna fry yo ass." 

Harry stares at his mandrake with a feeling that he's done something truly idiotic. 


End file.
